


Kisses

by AKnightOfAGoodKing



Series: the House of Wayne-El [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Fluff, Humor, Kisses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-28 16:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10135985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKnightOfAGoodKing/pseuds/AKnightOfAGoodKing
Summary: Affectionate shenanigans surrounding the announcement of Bruce Wayne and his mysterious fiancé.[DO NOT RE-POST MY WORK(S) WITHOUT MY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AND PERMISSION]





	1. The Gala

There in Gotham, on one particular night, there was a thick air of rumors and whispers running through the city as it was the night of the Gotham City’s Annual Charity Gala, hosted by Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham himself, accompanied by his many children. However, there was another reason why everyone was just so excited about this event: the public announcement of Bruce Wayne’s fiancée.

“Oh, I'm very excited for the Gala,” he said, smiling charmingly on air with the local news. “It’ll be the best time to introduce my fiancé, who also bringing family, so I'm very excited for them to experience the limelight of Gotham's most charitable and wealthy.”

This one reveal had the number of guests attending triple in the upcoming week, more than half coming from outside the city itself and some from even outside the country. The Wayne family was famous everywhere, and everyone wanted to take the first look at the one who managed to make _the_ Bruce Wayne, playboy billionaire, fall heads over heels and take him off the market.

So when the night of the Gala arrived, strangers and citizens of the city came to the entrance of Wayne Tower, where the Gala took place every year after a few weeks of renovations and would remain so for one night and one night only. Reporters, journalists, and paparazzis took notes, quotes, and pictures of the guests came out of their cars, onto the red carpet pathway and in through the door.

Once past the doors, the Gala was a quiet event, filled with soft conversations between members of the finest, richest and most famous people in the world and the skilled music played by a grand orchestra. On the walls, there were many beautiful paintings and art pieces graciously lent to the Gala for the night, and waiters walked around with full glasses of champagne, wine and scotch.

Some guests knew each other before the event and settled into talk of the past and current events; others have thought to expand their connections. Many were watching for any signs of their host and his children, wanting to take the first peek at mysterious lover.

However, for a certain (even more) extended family, it was to be a fun night.

“Mister Grayson,” said Madame Charlotte Novgorod, CEO of Novgorod Fashion, a thin glass of champagne in her delicate hands. She was nearing old age, the light signs of crinkled around her eyes, and her lips shone red. “Would you tell us anything about your adoptive father's fiancée? I would never thought that Mister Wayne would ever be a committed man from all the stories they've run on him over the years.”

Dick let out a light chuckled, a practiced act he had perfected time and time again at these events he was asked to appear at. “I would love to tell you, Madame Novgorod,” he said smoothly, looking a little guilty, “but Bruce has quiet about his fiancé due to personal reasons and mutual agreement, so I'll have to keep my lips sealed out of respect for him. It's the only reason I'm still in the will.”

Several of the guests, including Madame Novgorod, laughed at the quip. “Oh, alright. But at least tell us, is his fiancée the _one?_ ”

The corner of his mouth lifted without missing a beat. “Oh, I know so.” They diverged to a different topic after that, an effort on Dick’s part, but it wasn't to say it was that difficult, seeing that the guests were liberal with their drinks. Nobody noticed a slouching reporter walking by, a notepad and a pen in his hands.

Off in the distance - but not too far away - at the buffet table was Damian, Dick’s youngest brother and the blood heir to the family fortune, trying his best to feed his dog Titus a few pieces of meat under the table carefully and unnoticed.

“I thought pets aren't allowed at events, Baby,” said Kara said with a smirk, already thinking of how to get the boy in trouble with his father. Or at least Alfred.

“Quiet, Kent,” the ten year old hushed, glaring at the blonde. It was bad enough that she drew eyes simply on her attractiveness alone, but to have her speak as well could draw even more attention, especially since she enjoyed teasing him. “I can't believe Father invited you to this thing. Now go away. This event is horrible enough without having you speaking to me. And stop calling me that.”

Kara placed her hands on her hips and then sighed. “I promise not to tell Alfred if you dance with me. Steph helped me buy this dress, and I _want_ to dance.” She was wearing a really nice dress, a silky blue chiffon dress that flowed down just above her knees and fitted around her body like a glove.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Just ask anybody who have been looking at you for the past hour. You may be a complete annoyance, Kent, but even I can see that you're very pleasing to the eye.”

“Aw, that's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me, imp,” the blonde cooed, gently ruffling a hand on top of the younger boy's hair - to which Damian smacked away with another roll of the eyes. “But I don't know anybody here, and I _certainly_ don't want to dance with a stranger. Help a nice girl like me out? Please, Damian?”

Kara gave Damian a soft smile, looking hopeful and happy. The youngest Wayne internally told himself it was good to be nice once in awhile. “Fine,” he said, sounding exasperated. “I'll dance with you since you asked so nicely. But just _one_ dance. Any more, you will be in debt.”

The farm girl laughed happily, grabbing the young heir by the hand and dragging him off to the temporarily constructed dancefloor. Damian was barely able to give Titus an order to remain under the table before his arm was placed around Kara’s waist and her hand on his shoulder.

(Damian would later say that dancing was Kara was actually tolerable, only because she managed not to step on his toes more than twice. Kara, on the other hand, told everyone that he smiled and actually enjoyed it, to which the ten year old would then deny with ferocity.)

All while that was happening, standing against the wall was Tim and Kon, who were both watching the guests, the former with a polite smile and the latter with a hard stare. “There’s a lot of people here,” Kon stated the obvious. “How do you even remember who’s who?”

Tim shrugged. “Studying,” he answered, taking a sip of the fruit punch that was being served. “It takes a few hours, but you'll start remembering different and notable aspects. How are you enjoying your first social event?”

“It's very crowded, and everyone talks a lot. It's really distracting. I don't know what to focus on, and it's kind of boring.”

“Welcome to the limelight of Gotham's most charitable and wealthy,” the third Wayne son quoted mockingly, lifting his cup up in a one-sided toast. “I don't like being here much either, so I'm glad I'm not Bruce. He does this on a near bi-weekly basis. Sometimes two or more nights in a row.”

Kon’s lips thinned out. “Can we leave now?” he asked. “Nobody would notice, and we can get some real food. Maybe sneak off for the rest of the night.”

Tim shook his head in sympathy, wanting to make out with his boyfriend somewhere more secluded and private. “Nope. Bruce wouldn't mind actually if we left quietly, but Alfred would have our skins. He says it's to keep up appearances.”

“But that probably just applies to you and your siblings. I don't think he would mind if _I_ left.”

“Oh, that's what _you_ think, but you sold your soul the moment you took one bite of his Banoffee pie. It's the most delicious thing in the world, and if you still want to eat it again, you _do_ what Alfred wants _._ ”

Kom sucked in a breath, his expression _I've been duped!_ Sensing his defeat, the youngest Kent went back to staring the guests, grumbling under his breath in Kryptonian about how he was Superboy and that he did not deserve any of this.

“Hey, boys,” a familiar voice called out, bringing them both out of their sudden bad mood. It was Stephanie, and walking with her were both Cassandra and Jason, the later looking bored. “Why are you doing being wallflowers?”

“Realizing not for the first time that Alfred owns all our asses,” Tim answered casually.

Cassandra chuckled. “You're not wrong,” she said. “Where's Clark?”

Kon shrugged. “Somewhere. Probably get as many interviews as possible. He doesn't want to draw any more attention until the announcement.”

“I still can't believe he's going to tell everyone publicly,” Jason added, hands in his pocket as he leaned against the wall. He looked like a punk despite wearing a tux and bow tie.

Stephanie smiled. “Well, I'm sort of glad he is,” she said, putting in her two cents. “It's means Bruce is slowly letting his guard down a little, and maybe he'll stop being such a brood."

“And we get two new members to our family,” Cassandra said happily, slipping in between Tim and Kon as she wrapped her arms around theirs. “Where's Kara and Damian?”

“They're dancing,” Jason answered, gesturing to the dancefloor with his thumb. “The imp actually looks like he's having fun. I bet Titus is under a table.”

“Didn’t Alfred say something about not having the dog here tonight?” Kon asked with some concern.

“Somebody's not getting some delicious pie for a while,” Tim said.

Kon actually felt bad for Damian.

“Let's go join them!” Stephanie said as she got a hold of Kon to his surprise and dragged him to the dancefloor.

“Woah!” Kon shouted. “I don't even know how to dance.”

“I'll teach you, kid.”

“I'm not a kid!”

Tim laughed at his boyfriend, who looked mildly confused and afraid. Then he felt himself get pulled after them by Cassandra. “I want to dance too,” she simply said, and Tim just rolled his eyes half-heartedly, not a bit against the idea.

“Hey!” Jason called out. “What about me? Jason Todd can't be seen stag!”

“It's not hard to just ask, you know,” Tim answered. “Go dance with Dick or something.” The IT wiz instantly regretted saying that because he actually liked Dick, and he knew he had wronged his oldest brother when he saw the growing grin on Jason’s face. He only saw Jason heading towards Dick before Cassandra turned him to face her.

With Jason, he started making his way past the guests, a mischievous smirk on his lips as he scanned crowd for his older brother, which wasn't hard because like Bruce, he knew how to be the center of attention. “Dick!” Jason exclaimed when he spotted said brother and headed towards the small crowd around said Wayne son. “Dance with me,” he said, slipping an arm around Dick’s waist.

“What?” Dick said in surprised, and that was the only thing he managed to say before Jason began dragging him to the dance floor where the others were. “Jason!” he scolded before turning back to the small party he was entertaining with an apologetic smile. “Please, forgive me on the _rude_ departure.”

“God,” Jason scoffed, “you're such a kiss ass.”

“And you're just an ass!” Dick countered.

Jason laughed. “Just the reputation I want.”

“I'm going to tell Alfred.”

“You think that scares me?” Jason asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Dick said with an all knowing smile.

“Just _shut_ up and dance with me,” Jason said, stepping onto the dancefloor. He was going to take the leading position, but Dick beat him to it, cackling.

“This is for kidnapping me,” Dick said, already moving so that Jason couldn't turn the tables on him just yet.

They heard Stephanie laughing from their left, Kon looking down at their feet carefully as he tries to keep up with the blonde's footsteps. “I wish I had a camera!” she said, laughing even more.

“You're in luck, Steph,” Tim said, hand reaching into his suit jacket. He pulled out a mini camera and snapped a picture before Jason could even protest. Then he slipped it back into his suit jacket.

“I'm going to kill all three of you,” Jason said belligerently.

“Jason, just _shut_ up and dance with me,” Dick said, quoting his partner word for word, and Cassandra and Tim bursted in a fit of laughter as they continued to dance.

“Damian,” Jason said when he spotted his youngest brother with Kara, “switch partners with me.”

Damian scoffed as if he couldn't believe that was even suggested to him. “Absolutely not, Todd,” he stated. “Why would I want to trade my _pretty_ blonde for _Grayson?_ ”

“ _Hey!"_  Dick said, sounding hurt, but feelings not even a bit so, “I am not _that_ bad, Dami. I've been called attractive by _supermodels_ before.”

“As if that impresses me, Grayson. I'm the son of Bruce Wayne. The opinions of supermodels are below me.”

Kara laughed. “You’re so sweet tonight, Dami,” she said, placing a kiss on top of Damian’s forehead, to which he blanched at.

“Disgusting, Kent,” the youngest said, frowning.

“Did someone say my name?” Kon asked, looking up from his feet, and he would have fallen, distracted and clumsy, if it had not been for Stephanie to pull him back on steady feet. “Thanks, Steph.”

“Oh!” Jason exclaimed, seeing a chance to escape from his brother. He slipped out of Dick’s hold and went straight to Cassandra and Tim, the former being asked to dance by a son of a European prime minister. “Cass,” he interrupted, standing between the prime minister's son and his sister holding an arm out to her, “would you like to dance with me?”

“Excuse me, but I asked first,” the prime minister's son said, frowning.

“Oh, really?” Jason asked, pretending to be apologetic. “I just thought that since my _sister_ was done dancing with my little brother, I'd come over because my dancing partner had been a huge jerk to me all night. Now if you don't mind.”

The prime minister's son eyes widened in realization of who Jason was and stepped away, a little irritated but quiet. “Now,” Jason said, taking a hold of Cassandra, “my turn to lead.”

Cassandra  laughed, placing her arm around her brother's waist before he could hers. “Not a chance, _brother_ ,” she said, already moving before Jason could refuse. “Thanks.”

Jason grumbled at his wasted effort, but anything was better than dancing with Dick. At least, Cassandra wasn't smiling a shit grin. Just an amused one.

Tim was smiling despite his sudden lack of a partner. “Hey, Dick,” he called out, “you want to dance with me?”

Dick smiled, looking over to his little brother with a plan, and he extended a hand to Tim, and the younger one accepted it, knowing what Dick wanted to do. Slowly and surely, they made their way towards Damian and Kara with precise and practiced steps until they were dancing side by side with the other duo.

“Hey, Kara,” Dick said, smiling, “want to switch partners with me?”

“ _No,_ ” Damian said immediately, and Kara starting snickering. “I don't want to dance with you, Grayson.”

“Actually, I think it's a fun idea,” Kara said, smiling as she moved towards Tim as she passed Damian to Dick. “You only said one dance, remember? I don't want to owe an imp any favors yet.”

“Thanks, Kara!” Dick said, laughing as he tugged at his little brother. “Come on, Damian. Dance with me.”

“I don't want to,” Damian turned down, crossing his arms defiantly.

Dick pouted, but he laughed when an idea came to mind. “I do this out of love,” he said before he suddenly scooped Damian with one arm and took a hold of Damian’s left hand in his right.

The suddenness of Dick’s action caught Damian off guard, so Damian ended up placing his right hand on Dick’s shoulder. He was being carried on one arm as easily as a child (“Because he is one.” “Shut up, Drake!”) “Put me down, Grayson!” the youngest Wayne complained. “I demand you unhand me!”

“Not a chance,” Dick said, laughing as he moving in the proper steps of a waltz.

“This is embarrassing. I'm telling Father on you for making a mockery of the Wayne family in public.”

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you? But you'd be wrong. Everyone's actually finding this cute.”

Damian frowned, but he took a moment to listen into conversations that were happening close by, mostly with the older aged men and women.

“Oh, would you look at that? Grayson and Wayne are simply adorable together. It's not often that you'll see brothers get along together at their age,” someone said.

“Bruce Wayne has quite a wholesome family. I'm a little envious. I wish my kids would just come to visit me more often. Wayne must be very proud of his children. A very lucky man,” said another.

Hearing the guests praising his father, Damian lost his will to struggle against Dick. “Fine,” he said, defiance gone. “Just one dance. Any more, and you'll start owing me favors as well.”

“You're adorable,” Dick said, dismissing everything Damian just said and placed a kiss where Kara placed hers earlier.

Again, Damian blanched, wiping his hand on his forehead feverishly. “Stop doing that to me!” he said, frowning, but then his eyes widened when he saw the smile on Dick’s face.

“Guys!” Dick called out to his family, carrying Damian against his will towards Stephanie and Kon first. “Come and give Damian a kiss!”

Stephanie and Kon stopped, turning their attention towards the oldest and the youngest of them. “Hmm?” the blonde hummed, taking less than a second to think about it. “Sure.”

With the help of Dick, the blonde was easily able to place a soft kiss on Damian’s forehead, chuckling against his skin. “Stop it this instant,” the youngest Wayne protested, wiping his forehead again. “I am not a child, and I do not appreciate being treated as such!”

“Your turn, Kon,” Dick said, giving the younger Kent boy a mischievous smile.

“Don't you dare, Kent,” Damian warned, attempting to struggle against his capturer, but Dick had managed to hold his legs in place properly so his kicks were small and weaker than usual. “I know how to hurt you.”

“I'll pass,” Kon said hesitantly. “Don't want to kiss an imp anyway.”

“In your face, Grayson!”

“Come on, Kon,” Stephanie interjected, smiling widely. “It's not like he can. It's not like you're _scared_ of the baby bird, right?”

Kon frowned, his eyebrows furrowed at that challenge. “I'm not scared of anything,” he said before he let go of Stephanie to face Damian.

“Don't you do it, Conner Kent,” Damian warned, leaning backwards as far away as possible as Kon came closer until he couldn't lean any further without falling backwards, and that was when he lost as Kon was the fourth person to kiss him on the forehead that night. He swore if he got sick from all the germs, payback was going to be a bitch for all of them.

“Who's scared now?” Kon asked, smiling as if he was the one who came out the winner. Dick laughed, knowing it was actually Stephanie who was the winner.

“Now,” Dick said, feeling excited about his streak, and scanned the dance floor. “To the others. Here, Kon, hold onto Damian for me.”

Without giving Kon a second to take in what was he said, Dick handed Damian to the farm boy, who was one of the physically stronger ones in the family, making sure there was an arm holding the youngest of them all securely and the other wrapped around locking him in place so that he would have to struggle for at least half an hour before he could even budge. Dick was master in restraining little brothers.

“Okay, make sure your grip is tight but lets him breathe,” Dick instructed. “The moment you loosen up a bit, he’ll escape and get away. After that, he'll plan a slow and painful death for the both of us, so let's have as much fun as possible beforehand.”

“I'm going to kill the both of you,” Damian said, doing what Dick had already learned to ignore a long time ago. Kon just nodded, honestly not sure how to refuse any of this, and Stephanie was almost doubled over in laughter.

“Come on,” Dick said, gesturing them to follow him, “they're all over there. Four birds with one stone.”

The three of them - along with one struggling captive - made their way towards on the dance floor on the opposite side of the entrance, where the two couples were, still dancing as they spoke and laughed. There was the distinct sounds of Jason making rude remarks and Tim chiding him as Kara added a few comments of her own. Cassandra was simply humming along with the music.

“Hey!” Dick called out, almost jumping all his steps in mischief. “Come and give our baby brother a kiss. We and Kara already did.”

“I hate all of you so much,” Damian seethed, pounding a fist against Kon’s chest, which everyone knew didn't hurt at all. “Let go, you overgrown pest.”

“This kid is really annoying,” Kom stated, to which Stephanie patted his back in comfort.

All while that happened with their attention away from her, Cassandra snuck up in front of Kon and Damian, swiping her thumb to brush off a loose strand of hair from the latter's face before kissing him in the open area. A smile was plastered on her lips where she pulled away, her hand running through the youngest one's hair once.

“I hate all of you,” Damian mumbled, deciding it was fruitless to resist physically at this point. He wasn't going anywhere now that there were at least four more capable people who could easily just catch him again because they too were escape artists in their own way and would be impossible to escape from if they cooperated because they had Herculean grips. He may be _totally_ against all this blatant display of affection, but he wasn't stupid enough not to know when he should just let things play out. “Get this done already and put me down.”

Tim burst into a fit of laughter, coming closer with Kara and Jason, who looked completely amused. “ _As you wish, Master Damian,”_ he said in his best Alfred impression, a reasonably good mimic of the family's servant and oldest ally and friend. He was still laughing during and after his kiss.

“Get any better, Tim,” Jason said, seemingly impressed, “and we can do some prank calls.”

“You're the last one, Jason,” Kara said, everyone looking to young man with the trademark white streak on a head of black hair. “Help put Baby out of his misery.”

Jason snorted with a smile. “Put the imp out of his misery?” he asked rhetorical. “Not happening. Little guy can suffer forever for all I care.”

“If I didn't dislike you so much, Todd,” Damian said, looking at Dick with a smug smirk, “I would thank you. You're less of an ass tonight. Tolerable, even.”

Dick just smiled. “Did you hear that, Jay?” he asked innocently. “He just said you’re _less_ of an ass.”

Jason  gasped dramatically. “You're right, Dick,” he said, smirk growing bigger as he got closer to his youngest brother. “An ass is all I am, and I wouldn’t want people to think I was something less. Well, luckily, I know how to fix this problem.”

“What are you doing, Todd?” Damian asked slowly, crossing his arms. It didn't take long to figure what was going to happen. “No, no, no, no, don't you da- Damn it, Todd! I hate you! I'm telling Father on all of you! And Pennyworth!”

Everybody else was laughing, a large smile on all their faces, as Damian continued to throw a small tantrum and demanded to be put down so that he could get everyone in trouble.

Then Cassandra stopped, a _brilliant_ idea coming into mind. “I have an idea,” she said simply with a grin, and everybody stopped because they could hear the excitement in her tone. (Even Damian, though it would take some time and a few promises before he would agree to the idea later.)

“I'm in,” Jason said before Cassandra could even explained it. Kara looked over to Kon who looked over to Tim who looked over to Dick who looked over to Stephanie who nodded without hesitation. There was no question that Damian was in whether he wanted to or not.  

“Okay,” Cassandra started, lifting her hands to start signing as she spoke. 


	2. Man of the Hour

It was midnight, and there was an hour left before the Gala officially ended. Bruce found himself crowded by CEOs and businessmen about partnerships with Wayne Enterprise, but he was distracted, taking a look at his gold watch every minute. He was suppose to properly introduce Clark to the guests right about now and make the engagement announcement in the final speech, but he hasn't seen or heard anything from his fiancé in at least half an hour.

To be completely honest, Bruce was beginning to feel a little doubt about all of this, about whether it was time to tie the knot with his lover of a little over a decade. It wasn't because of Clark, though, but it was because of Bruce himself. Clark certainly deserved better, Bruce thought, but never willing to admit out loud because he wished he was better. Clark was the life giving sun, and Bruce was not even the moon but a shadow.

Lost in thought, Bruce let the few guests around him talk, and he replied with empty comments and practiced smiles, a wink here and a laugh there. Sometimes, he would take a sip from his champagne class in order to not put an effort to answer a question. So when he felt a light tap on his shoulder, his attention was taken away, expecting to see Clark, and he turned his head around with a small smile. It was Kon, who had a light pink on his cheeks, looking a little nervous and maybe even a little embarrassed.

“Conner,” Bruce said, his small still there. It might not have been Clark, but he was happy to see the young man, who was already considered a son. “How are you enjoying the party?”

“Uhm, it’s, it's great,” Kon asked hesitantly, his eyes turned left to the floor. He still looked embarrassed, fidgeting with the bottom of his sleeves.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “What's the problem, Conner?” he asked in the tone he used when he was questioning his other sons.

 

_“Conner, go first.”_

_“Why him, Cass? I think I should go first. I do icebreakers so well.”_

_“Yeah, why me?”_

_“This plan is ridiculous. Also, I demand to be put down, Kent.”_

_“Quiet, Baby. Kon, pass him to me.”_

_“Because you're quieter, Kon. Jason's too dramatic."_

_“Are you blushing, Kon?”_

_“Shut up, Tim. I've only done it to girls and you before. Oh, and the imp too. How do you expect me to feel when I'm being told to do that to an older man out of the blue?”_

_“You're making yourself sound like jailbait.”_

_“He_ **is** _jailbait, Dickie.”_

_“Shut up, Jason.”_

_“Shut up the both of you. Kon, please? It'll be the most gentle way we can go with this.”_

_“Bribe him with Alfred's cooking, Steph.”_

_“Tim, you traitor.”_

_“Good idea. If you go first, I'll ask Alfred to make whatever you want the next time you come over. Anything you want.”_

_“No way.”_

_“What if I asked Ma for her apple pie recipe?”_

_“. . . . Kara, I trusted you.”_

 

Kon was still hesitating as Bruce began to frown. Then the teenager leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on Bruce’s cheek, his face turning a darker shade of pink. “Steph and Kara promised to get Alfred to make Ma’s apple pie,” he said, looking ready to run. “It wasn't my idea.”

A few guests were looking at them, speculating ideas, but Bruce ignored them, ruffling Kon’s hair affectionately. “How about we invite Ma and Pa Kent to the Manor too?” he asked, chuckling. “We’ll make a picnic out of it.”

The blush on Kon's face with replaced with a smile, almost outwardly excited. “Thanks, Bruce!” he said, a bounce in his step as he walked away.

Bruce turned around, feeling better than earlier. “Where were we?” he asked, ready to launch himself back into the conversation.

“We-” one of the guests started before a cheery “Bruce!” interrupted, which had everyone turning around to the oldest Wayne child.

“ _Mister_ Grayson,” the interrupted guest said offended, but Bruce ignored her for his oldest son.

“Dick,” he said, smiling at his son before turning back to the guests he was entertaining. “Have you met my son?”

A few shook their heads, but the others muttered affirmations. “It's nice to see you here,” Dick said politely to them, shaking hands. “I won't be here long. Just wanted to give Bruce something.”

 

_“Okay, looks like Kon’s coming back. Dick, you're next.”_

_“Alright!”_

_“Why Grayson? I think as my father's son, I should go.”_

_“Don't worry, Dami. You'll get your turn."_

 

“A gift?” Bruce asked curiously as Dick nodded, wrapping his arms around his father in a hug. The older man instinctively hugged back, the combination of familiarity and muscle memory coming into effect.

“Nope,” Dick said, pressing a kiss against the cheek Kon didn't kiss. 

Bruce couldn't help but laugh, seeing Dick smile just like he did when he was Robin, free and happy. “Just a kiss.”

Dick let go, waving his temporary farewell. “See you in a bit!”

Bruce didn't even try to stop the smile from appearing in his face, only doing so much as hide it behind it behind his hand so he wouldn't wear his heart on his sleeve too much tonight. “Kids,” he said affectionately, seeing Kara beckoning at him from the corner of his eyes. “If you'd excuse me. A beautiful woman is asking me for a dance.”

Before anyone could get a comment in, Bruce placed his glass down on a table as he made his way towards the dancefloor. “Hi, Mister Wayne,” Kara said, being as elegant as she could be, “would you like to dance?”

 

_“Jay, hold on to Baby for me."_

_"Kent!"_

_"Hey! I'm suppose to go next.”_

_“Well, too late. It's your fault. Kara's faster than you.”_

_“Really, Tim? Tell me something I don't know.”_

_“Prettier than you.”_

_“I was asking Tim, not you, Cass. Also, rude.”_

_“Still prettier than you.”_

_“You look really happy, Kon. What did Bruce say to you?”_

_“He's going to invited Ma and Pa for a picnic. Ma and Alfred are going to make apple pie together. O_ _h, I thought you were next, Jason.”_

_“Quiet!"_

 

“Of course, Miss Kent,” Bruce said, holding out a hand to Kara, who accepted, and soon, they were both moving at the tempo of the song, which shifted to a casual classic to a slow dance. “How is your first party?”

“Well, I don't know a lot of people,” Kara answered, her head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, “so I danced with Dami and Tim. It's not that bad. I might come to another one.”

“I'm glad. I'll let you know whenever there's another party. If Clark can't make it as my plus one, would you mind taking his place? I always like to make some of my guests feel a little envious as I enter the room with a gorgeous princess.”

Kara laughed, lightly punching Bruce on the shoulder. “I can see where Dami gets his charm from. Thanks, Bruce, for everything. I really appreciate everything you're done for me. When I first landed on Earth, I was overwhelmed by loneliness because my entire planet was destroyed and my parents went along with it, but you and Clark took care of me right from the very start and made me feel like a part of a family again. I don't know how to repay you for it.”

Bruce was touched, a warm feeling growing where they touched. He lifted Kara’s face up by the chin and looked her in the eyes with a softness reserved for very special individuals. “All I want from you is for you to be happy, Kara,” he said, tapping her on the nose gently. “So don't worry about repaying me because I got everything back and more when you smile and laugh, getting along with everyone else.”

That out a smile on Kara’s face, and she tiptoed a little to place a kiss on the side of his chin before laughing. “Thanks for the dance, Bruce,” she said before walking away into the sea of guests. “I'll see you in a bit.” The slow dance song ended.

Bruce took a moment to watch her, a smile yet to leave his lips. At the moment, after witnessing the Prince of Gotham so willing to dance, several women came close in order to have a turn, but they were intercepted when Cassandra appeared out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around Bruce’s, appearing both bored and daring to anyone who wanted to come closer.

“Cass,” he said, not a bit surprised. He wasn't sure who would be showing up next, but he was certain Cassandra would show up like this, out of the shadows and on you before you expected her.

 

_“Cass took my turn! Someone take the demon brat!”_

_“Don’t you dare pass me off again_. _Also quiet, Todd. You're drawing too much attention.”_

_“What the imp said.”_

_“I'm not an imp, Kent. Stop calling me that.”_

_“The imp has become self - aware.”_

_“I'll tie you to a crane, Drake.”_

_“Just wait, Jason. You'll go next then.”_

_“I better. Better not take my turn, Tim.”_

_“Didn’t even think about it.”_

 

“Bruce,” Cassandra replied, giving her father a small smile.

Then she placed her head on his shoulder, not saying a word, and that, Bruce knew, said everything. She was relaxed against him. It was an endearing action, one Bruce couldn't help but smile fondly at as he looked over her head.

They stayed that way for a while, her arms wrapped around his and her head contently against his shoulder. It was a nice weight, he thought, a very warm and satisfying weight, and he wouldn't trade anything in the world for this moment. In a way, that was like their dance, and when the song ended, Cassandra lifted her head up and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you,” she said before she easily slipped away and into the crowd.

Bruce watched her leave, a fond smile still on his lips and adoration in his eyes. Attention placed somewhere else, another set of arms wrapped themselves around his arms, and he looked over to see familiar blonde hair.

 

_“God damn it! She took my turn! Stop taking my turn!”_

_“Jason, you're too loud. Stop complaining. You weren't looking.”_

_“I said not to take my turn!”_

_“Well, you told_ me _not to take your turn.”_

_“This isn't fair. At all.”_

_“Jason, stop your bitching already. We should be glad this is going smoothly.”_

_“You can't tell me what to do, Timmy.”_

_“You know what, Jason? Just out of_ **love** _for you, I'm taking your turn.”_

_“Oh, no, you don't, Tim. I'll gut you. Don't take my turn!”_

 

“Want to look at the paintings with me?” Stephanie asked, laughter in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder.

Bruce looked over as well, seeing the rest of his brood. Jason seemed upset, his arms crossed as he rolled his eyes. “Sure,” the Wayne replied, already guessing what they were up to as Stephanie pulled him along with her,  disregarded all but one painting, large and facing the podium at the other side of the room. “I wasn’t aware that this painting was going to be here. How did you get this here without me noticing?”

“A lot of practice and a lot of kickassery,” Stephanie said as she looked up at the smiling faces of Thomas and Martha Wayne, sitting peacefully in front of a soft fireplace. It was one of the last paintings of the two Waynes before their death. “They would be very happy, Bruce. They would be very proud."

The once lone Wayne smiled, nodding. “Yes, they would,” he agreed.”They would be really proud of their grandchildren too. After they get over just how many of you there are.”

Stephanie laughed, lightly punching Bruce on the arm. “No way I'm letting you be my dad. I'll let Alfred be my granddad, though," the blonde said as she leaned over to kiss Bruce on the cheek, and then disappearing along like the rest into the crowd.

Bruce took another moment to look at the painting, thinking that maybe he should move it from the corner of his study to the living room. Giving his parents a small smile, he turned around, immediately greeted by his third son who was grinning smugly as he looked over his shoulder.

“Tim,” Bruce said, glancing over to the crowd.

“Hey, B,” Tim replied back, quickly pulling his father by the tie and and tippy toeing to kiss Bruce on the forehead. (Because he was that short.)

 

_“I swear to God, if you let me go now, I'll only shoot you once. After I kill Timmy.”_

_“This is humiliating. Carried by a man - child who's being carried by an alien. I'll never forgive any of you for this.”_

_“You know my skin's bulletproof, right?”_

_“B's got a lot of green stuff in his vault, Kara. It's not too hard to make a batarang out of that stuff.”_

_“No threatening Kara, Jay.”_

_“What’s stopping me, Cass?”_

_“Telling Alfred.”_

_“Jason, you should shut up. Alfred won't make you dessert.”_

 

It took only two seconds before they parted, giving each other a smile before suddenly Tim was being yanked away by the collar and Jason taking over his place, somewhat of a pout on his face and arms crossed. In his arms was an equally irritated Damian, who was scrawling since he was dragged to his father.

“I'm going to kiss you,” Jason huffed irritably, glaring over his shoulder as he squeezed Damian in his embrace as an emphasis. The youngest one punched his on the shoulder, but it was easily ignored as Jason turned back around. “And then you're going to kiss me because I _deserve_ it. Everybody's been taking my turn, so I'm going to get something none of them got yet, alright?”

 

_“You okay, Timmy?”_

_“No. That ass pulled too hard. I think he was trying to choke me out.”_

_“You’ll be fine, Timmy. It won't bruise.”_

_“Very comforting, Dick."_

 

Internally, Bruce was laughing at how demanding Jason was, deciding to keep quiet just in case it might irritate him more. So he just nodded, which signalled Jason to take the initiative to free one hand on his grip on his littlest brother and grab Bruce’s face to still him for a kiss on the cheek that lasted at least ten seconds. Damian grunted in disgust.

“My turn,” Jason said, smirking as he tapped his own cheek. Bruce chuckled out loud this time and complied, returning the favor in full.

Smirking proudly, Jason shoved Damian into his father's arm and gave Bruce a pseudo salute as he walked away, leaving the two blood Waynes.

Bruce raised an eyebrow wordlessly and then to his youngest son, who had his arms crossed and frowning as he was still in someone's hold. “Will I be receiving a kiss from you too, Damian?” the Wayne patriarch asked, amused.

Damian's frown lightened as his father moved his arms to hold his son more securely, the boy wrapping an arm around his father's shoulder. “They said I had to give it to you over there, Father,” he said almost shyly, pointing to the podium on the other side of the room. “It's almost time for you to give your speech.”

Bruce hummed in confirmation, a small smile on his lips, as he walked to the side of the stage. Some eyes followed him as he passed by and as he walked up the stairs on the side, Damian’s head was held high as they reached the podium. Now the guests had turned to them, watching and waiting with undivided attention.

“Father,” Damian whispered as he placed a hand gently on his father’s neck and kissed him on the forehead for a brief moment before parting.

The guests, finding this display of family affection endearing, began to applaud softly with smiles almost matching Bruce's in adoration of the youngest Wayne. From off to the side, there were small bursts of giggles and other forms of laughter, all belonging to very beloved guests of honor.

“Damian,” Bruce replied back just as loudly before giving back in a moment of great happiness, a kiss once again placed for the eighth time that night on Damian’s forehead.

Damian wrinkled his nose, clicking his tongue. “I wish you didn't do that, Father,” he said, moving his head a bit to glare at the source of small laughter nearby, “too many people have kissed me there. You might get some sort of disease. Who knows where their mouths have been?”

The corner of Bruce's lip quirked up. “I'm willing to take the risk,” he said, finally letting Damian down to stand in his own two feet for the first time in nearly two hours. “Go to the rest. I'll see you after this, Damian.”

“Of course, Father,” Damian replied, pointing over his father's shoulder, “but first you must announce your engagement to the farmer boy.”

Bruce watched as his youngest walked off the stage, heading over to his brothers and sisters, and the mysterious vigilante didn't need to turn around to feel that there was someone standing behind him, slipping an arm around his waist. The applause had waned.

“I thought you ran away,” Bruce said teasingly as he turned around to focus his attention on his fiancé.

“Not a chance,” Clark replied, smiling that charming yet innocent smile of his.

The guests were a little shocked when they saw Bruce Wayne, Gotham Prince billionaire playboy, kiss Clark Kent, Daily Planet journalist from Kansas, but from the side, there was a group that applauded and cheered without hesitation. Though a little late in their reaction, all the guests followed in their enthusiasm.

The two men parted with smiles on their lips and eyes only for each other. Then Bruce spoke into the microphone. “People of Gotham,” he said, taking a hold of Clark’s hand, “it is an honor for me to introduce you to my fiancé, Clark Kent, and what is an even greater honor is to have you all here tonight at Gotham’s Annual Charity Gala, where . . . . .”

As Bruce made his speech, camera flashed every so often and the guests listened, laughing when he made a good natured joke and listening with the greatest interest. By the next day, newspapers from all over the country will have a picture of the newly engaged couple plastered all over the first page, and in another day, the rest of the world would hear about the news.

However, that didn't matter. Instead, as he made his speech, Bruce could see the portrait of his parents all the way in the other side of the room and he could see them smile. Maybe it was the adoration he had gained through kisses or the love he held in his hand, or both, Bruce was sure his parents were smiling at him.


	3. Home Is Where the Heart Is

Half an hour past midnight, and the gala had ended and all the guests had gone, many congratulating the engaged couple on their way out. Already, words was spreading quickly on the web, but all of that was forgotten and ignored as Bruce and Clark were the only ones left, save for the cleaners. They were still on stage, sitting beside each other on its edge.

“That was less scary than I thought it would be,” Clark confessed, pressing his nose against Bruce's hair. “I expected jeers and a few glasses thrown my way.”

Bruce chuckled, yawning into his hand as he continued to pet Clark's hand. “I told you they would love you,” he said, smiling tiredly.

“Maybe, but I'm pretty sure it's because all of Gotham loves you though. They love the kids too. “

“And I'm very grateful for that,” Bruce added, thinking about his children, all of them. “I don't regret any of them. They're more than I'll ever deserve, just like you, Clark.”

Clark laughed, tilting Bruce's face by the chin to pepper kisses on the Prince’s face. “You're such a romantic, Bruce-” One. “-but you'd be wrong-” Two. “-you might not think-” Three. “-you deserve anything-” Four. “-but some of us think-” Five. “-that you deserve everything.”

Bruce laughed along his fiancé, though more quiet it was almost nonexistent, as he caught the Man of Steel by the ears. “I love you,” the Gotham Prince confessed.

“And I love you,” the Last Son replied.

Then they heard someone clear their throat. “I believe it's time to go home now, sirs,” Alfred said, gesturing his hands towards the exist before walking out. “The children are waiting outside in the limousine.”

“Oh, yes, good idea,” Clark said, jumping off the stage. Bruce followed, and they walked towards the door right behind Alfred.

At the black limousine parked right in front of Wayne Tower, Alfred opened the door for Bruce and Clark. However, there were no sounds of fighting or bantering; instead, the kids were all asleep, spread out on the seating and floor.

Snugged right in the center of one side was Dick and Damian, the latter sitting right between the former’s legs and leaning back as the former had his arms wrapped almost possessively over the younger one. On their left, Cassandra and Stephanie were slumped against each other, their heads touching. On their laps was an overstretched Jason, who was half on the floor and half on the seat. To the right, Kara had her head leaning against the seat, and at her feet were Tim and Conner, the former having his head on the latter's thigh and the latter leaning up against Dick’s legs. Titus, who wasn't suppose to be there in the first place, was lying on the floor with his head on top of his front legs, which were crossed on Conner’s chest.  

Bruce and Clark chuckled quietly as they got in, but they too fell asleep as Alfred drive towards home.


End file.
